Completed Cold-blood meets No-Blood (Kuv)

[Licearsvansan]

. . ......... My journey is my destination. . . . .

Summer 24, Year 503 North Suvan Sea

Svan had first gotten on the boat with a large dose of anticipation and an eager smile. Now however, he was covered in soot, doubled over the side of the boat, and trying to hold back what was left of his last meal in his stomach.

...

Earlier in his journey Svan had been fairly happy aboard the Svefran ship he was riding. It was his first time out this far at sea and he found himself enjoying the salty air and gentle sway upon the calm Suvan Sea waves. He also found something absolutely intoxicating about the beautiful mixture of the warm summer sun and the cool sea breeze upon his cold-blooded skin. Unfortunately, good things rarely lasted long for Svan.

As the ship approached the bottom of the northern sea, it was warned that an group of pirates was at the nearby Fang Isle. Unknown to Svan the boat slightly altered its course and made a beeline to stop the seafaring criminals.

Oblivious to the danger that approached, Svan watched patiently as the ship's members adjusted the course and prepared for battle. He smiled as the scurried around the ship ignoring any passenger on board aside from issuing a slight warning to the more fragile looking members to find cover. So busy were the members of the crew that they failed to notice the dark haired man clad in a brown cloak standing next to one of the sails that had just been tightened. The man stood fixated on the knot of rope holding the sail to the mast. He knew what the knot was doing and why it was important that it remain secure, but try as he might Svan couldn't fight the temptation of untying the rope. In the back of his mind Svan knew what he was doing was wrong, but he desperately wanted to see the sort of chaotic reaction that would follow his little prank.

Methodically his hands worked to loosen the knot, and after a moment or two of fiddling with it, the rope began to come undone. Before the snake could finish untying it however, a Svefran man shouted for all passengers to take cover, and for all crew members to prepare for the upcoming battle. At the news of a battle the snake was immediately torn from his thoughts, and moved away from the mast as quickly as he could.

Lost in the movements of the many people scurrying about the boat to find a secure position, Svan managed to get away from his misdeed unnoticed. The snake moved quickly to get below the deck, but one hurrying passenger pushed Svan to the floor as he went by. Before Svan could get back up, a whistling arrow screamed through the sky. Raising his head Svan saw at least three pirate ships quickly closing in on the the pavilar. Evasive maneuvers where immediately made as a single sloop shot away form the other slow ships to attack the boat Svan had the misfortune to be riding. At first the pavilar outmatched the poorly armed sloop, but Svan soon began to curse his own mischief as the sail of their own ship came loose, and their evasive abilities were crippled. The Dhani was sent tumbling as the ship swayed uncontrollably and nearly fell over board twice. Before long the sloop caught up with the pavilar and after several volleys of flaming arrows they began to board. While the trained members of the crew battled valiantly against the marauding pirates, Svan ran around like a maniac beating wildly with his heavy cloak at any fires springing up. By the time the battle was done Svan lie on the deck breathing heavily, and his now oily and half blazing cloak floated in the waters nearby. The ship had taken serious damage in the assault, and was now headed to dock at a nearby village for repairs and supplies. Exhausted from running about deck like a mad man, Svan barely managed to lift his body over the side of the ship to throw up.

Which led him to his current state of affairs. Dirty, tired, sick, and hanging like a dishrag. The fact that the damages to the ship caused it to rock back and forth eve more violently was not helping his situation either.

When the ship finally reached land Svan couldn't be happier. He walked off the boat, and even received a few pats on the back for helping out the crew with the fires. Though he couldn't help, but notice that some of the people were teasing him for the way he reacted after the battle. Svan also couldn't help but notice that there was another man receiving far more attention than him. Not jealous so much as curious Svan peered over to see the man and eavesdrop on the gossip before walking off the boat. The snake headed straight to the village and immediately headed to the nearest market to buy whatever non-seafood piece of meat he could find.

Having gorged himself properly, Svan began his walk through the town. It would likely be some time before the ship was prepared and until then Svan hoped to make the most of dry land. As he walked through the town he saw the same man the others had been focusing on before. Not one for tact, Svan strutted straight up to the man, and waved.

"Hey, I heard you got poisoned...Why aren't you dead?"

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh winced at the careless disclosure of something he would have preferred kept hidden. He'd spent a day's worth of djed imposing the sense of trust, on the few crewmen tending him, to keep his secret. He had yet to find a town where being a Nuit was shrugged off as commonplace. And all too often the rarity was enveloped with equal parts hostility. This was largely what had prompted him to seek passage with the Svefra rather than waiting for the Zeltivan route to arrive in what may be weeks, or even a season.

The captain of the small vessel had picked up on his racial giveaways before long. The bags forming under the eyes, despite the cosmetic attempts Kuvarakh made to conceal them. The darkening of the tongue he'd gotten used to hiding. Most Nuits not living in Sahova had learned to speak with a guarded tongue. But the real clue had been his inexplicable weight loss. He must have weighed three hundred pounds when he boarded. The body, a gift from the god of heart attacks, whichever one that was.

Kuvarakh was not above a bit of larceny, left over from his days in Ravok, serving a master that rewarded underhanded endeavors that procured items from his rivals as bonus ends. It had been no great effort to pick the lock on the common morgue and spirit the corpse away on a cart in the night. But it marked time he could spend in a town where his body might be spotted be a grieving relative. This too, had occurred in his past and once was definitely enough.

By the time they'd reached the interior of the Northern sea, he was down to about two hundred ten, and drawing suspicious glares from captain and crew alike. His skin did not exactly hang in folds, but it was loose on his frame. This did not improve the relationship he'd ruined when he'd mentioned that he hailed originally from Zeltiva. He'd thought it would assuage the crew to know that he was not prone to seasickness. 'Certainly not like this overly talkative young man before me now.' he thought with a scowl. 'How was I to know these seafaring gypsies considered the Zeltivan route a heresy upon "their" sea.' An assumed gift from their god, Lovo-something. It seemed he was doing nothing right.

Then the bird, with the message of another ship under attack from pirates. These damned water rats had the nerve to glare sidelong at him, superstitiously blaming him for the ill-fortune. He wondered, though, if there was something to it, because as soon as the craft came under the stresses of combat, one of the mainsails collapsed for no reason. Glares again flew in his direction. Now being the sole floundering vessel, it became the target of the pirates' malice and energy. Kuvarakh remembered very little of the fight, spending the better part of it staying out of the way of those that were making themselves useful. He had run to the helm to ask what he could do to help.

It was odd, the mental connections one make. He had thought of the expression "staring daggers" as the captain's eyes screamed something at him. And then, it seemed, the daggers struck, but in his back. The pain brought him to his knees as the captain's expression softened curiously. Then there was commotion and shouting. Someone tripped over him and he looked into the surprised face of an attacking pirate. Then a boot, a cutlass, a wooden bucket, a body rolling by. A body rolled across his back accompanied by a scream. it echoed his own as the pain doubled and he sprawled prone. Someone stepped on his hand and he roared in pain as the ongoing butcher-block sounds of cloven flesh and moans and crashes filled his ears. He lay still as things eventually calmed. he wanted to draw no attention to his cursed self.

When they reached landfall, he dared to move. Gasps of surprise greeted him. The captain's attitude was altered significantly. It seemed Kuvarakh had saved her life, by taking two arrows in the back that would have hit her. Poisoned arrows yet. Having paid up front in Syliras, and having a debt of honor, the captain directed them up the coast a ways to the nearby village, giving him an sigil to present for courtesies. She too, knew apparently that a Nuit might not otherwise be welcome. And being unable to complete the voyage with the ship in tatters, it was the best she could do.

Kuvarakh had asked that the arrows be pulled and the wounds be stitched immediately. He was already in great pain from the poison and the time to wash and stitch the wounds was right now. Yet another thing Nuits learn early. While Nuits are largely immune to a number of aspects of poison, such low level nervous system functions as simple pain registry were still available to be 'enjoyed'. He did not have to worry about the higher functions of heart and lungs, which was the real goal of the toxin, but it still hurt like shyke!

So now, after doing everything he could to suppress the little details that might announce his Nuit-hood anew, the young man had to go and blab about his amazing recovery from the poison. He grimaced and looked pointedly at the fellow, putting his finger to his lips. "Shhhhhhhhhh....."

[Licearsvansan]

Svan pursed his lip as he was shushed by the man. While old, he was still new to the world beyond his nest and Nuits weren't exactly commonplace. The snake had never formally met a Nuit before, and so when this man bid him to be quiet Svan was left confused. Why would someone want to hide an immunity to poison he thought to himself. Unless... Svan walked quickly up quickly to the man and pointed at him. "You're a Dhani!" he whispered excitedly. Svan smiled broadly, obviously very proud of his shoddy detective work.

While the snake knew next to nothing about the Nuit race, he did know that Dhani marked by Siku could resist poisons and venoms. Since this man seemed capable of surviving what was apparently lethal poison it only made sense to Svan that this man had close ties to the Dhani.

Not waiting for the Nuit to answer Svan put out his hand to shake and softly declared, "Nice to meet you. My name is Licearsvansan, son of Sannethlicear. I come from-" The snake stopped dead in its tracks and withdrew its hand. Svan eyed the man warily and suddenly began to speak suspiciously, "Wait, what nest do you come from?" He had just remembered that his father had warned him that not all Dhani were friendly to one another. Svan folded his arms and scanned the man. The Dhani couldn't help but make a slight face of disgust. Svan with his rat nest of hair normally cared little for appearances, but this man took it to an entirely new level. The Nuit's fat folds hung loosely off his body like clothes left out to dry, and it was clear from the dark bags under his eyes that a severe bout of insomnia was kicking this man's now flabby butt.

Unfortunately, while Svan was able to find many flaws with this man's appearance, he was unable to tell whether this man had the build of a viper, rattler, or constrictor due to his strange build. Stranger still, Svan could have sworn he had seen a much fatter version of this man when they had boarded the ship.

If he doesn't try to kill me, I will have to remember to ask him about his dieting technique.

[Kuvarakh]

Completely misunderstanding what the young man was saying, Kuvarakh believed he was stating that he thought Kuvarakh's name was "Adonnie". He seemed friendly enough and Kuvarakh felt a bit ashamed to have hushed him the way he had. The fellow didn't seem put off by his shabby appearance as Kuvarakh corrected him, misunderstanding the man's next statement as well.

"I'm sorry, Lyseer? Swanson, you say?" Kuvarakh reached up, intending to take hold of the proffered hand. "But I'm afraid you have me mistaken...OW...for someone else. My name is not Adonnie, it is Kuvarakh, Kuvarakh Lashman, I...uh..." By now he realized the hand had been withdrawn.

All at once, he realized his mistake, or so he thought. 'Oh good preachin' gods! This body I have. IT must be this 'Adonnie' person, and this young fellow thought I was him. Shyke!...well...too late to fake it. I've already told him my real name.' Now the young man seemed very hesitant, suspicious even.

He wasn't sure exactly what the guy meant by what 'nest' he was from, but he felt it best not to mention Zeltiva again. He could feel the look of disdain gathering around him, both from the young man and the crewman still working on stitching up his wounds. He didn't know what sort of disinfectant they had applied beforehand, but it had been very painful, the one benefit being that the stitching paled in comparison. Obliged by the debt the Captain owed him or not, he felt certain these crewmen were enjoying every hiss of pain that escaped his lips.

"I'm not really from any paticular 'nest'. I've lived in a num-...OW...a number of places." He grimaced at the secretive sound of this. He knew this conversation would go a lot more smoothly in private. "Look, uh...Mr. Swanson, I'm sorry I'm not more focused on social matters right now. I...OW...guess there's no one here that doesn't already know...I ...uh...well...Do you know what a 'Nuit' is?"

For himself, Kuvarakh had no clue what a "Dhani" was. Or that such a race even existed. If, during the last hundred years, he had heard, from Zeltivan sailors, Drykan horsemen, Ravokian soldiers, or any citizens of any other cultures he had been exposed to, tales of "snake people", he'd have chalked it up to delirium, myth, drunkeness, or references to the monstrous snakes found in the Sea of Grass. Though he did find the young man's accent hard to place.

[Licearsvansan]

Svan made a look of obvious confusion. The man wasn't replying in the way Svan had expected him to. Was it possible that the man was attempting to dodge the question? No, this man seemed just as confused as Svan was. Svan was quickly beginning to believe that this man wasn't a dhani at all. In fact, it was possible that this man didn't even know what a dhani was.

The snake kept it arms crossed as it looked over the man. Any Dhani would have immediately been able to tell that his personal name was Svansan since he had bothered to mentio his mother, which meant this man was something else.

Do you know what a 'Nuit' is?" asked the man.

A Nuit? Svan thought to himself. "Whats that? Isn't that some kinda lizard?" The Dhani frowned. The man had confused his name, treated the word Dhani as a name, and was now talking about lizards. Either that or he was pronouncing the word "knot" very poorly. Whatever the case Svan had little to o clue as to what the an had understood, and so the snake did his best to hiden his confusion. A feat he was doing fairly poorly at.

The Dhani's face resembled that of a bad poker player with a horrible hand. While he had leared how to hide emotions like rage or frustration very well back at the nest, confusion was one that had a tendency easy to spot. He reminded himself to get better at that one day.

To futher complicate things the man was speaking in an odd manner, he was pausing constantly as if he didn't know what to say and would wince at invervals. Normally Svan wouldn't care, but the whole thing was rather distracting. With a concerned expression Svan unfloded his arms and leaned in slightly. "And Sir, Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

This whole mess had Svan cofused, but at least he wasn't the only one for a change.

oocSvan will continue talking in a lisp, he can't yet morph his lisp away.

[Kuvarakh]

"No, I'm fine." Kuvarakh replied. "But if this Adon-...OW...Adonnie is a friend...WAS a friend of yours, I'm terribly sorry. I did not k-k...OW...kill him." He turned partially to level a scowl at the grinning Svefra crewman behind him with the needle. "How much longer?" he asked the man, through a tense, grit-toothed mouth.

"Not long." The crewman responded vaguely. "The arrow wounds are finished, I am stitching up some of the slack in your skin." Some of the crewman's fellows laughed at the look on Kuvarakh's face, and he vowed then and there never to meld into a fat man's body again.

It occurred to Kuvarakh that he had assumed that everyone knew what a Nuit was. He had only asked if the man knew what a 'Nuit' was rhetorically. "Uh...never mind. It's a condition. They do it in...OW...labs in Sahova." The young man before him still looked confused, and Kuvarakh supposed he probably didn't know where or what 'Sahova' was. "It's an island off the coast of Sylira. They do a lot of...OW...weird...things...there."

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. 'Oh yeah, THAT really clarified things.' he sneered sarcastically to himself. This 'Mr. Swanson' didn't seem to understand his disclaimer about 'Adonnie'. He decided that he was mistaken about his initial assumption that it was the body he was currently inhabiting.

"Okay look, in exchange for be-...OW...being immune to most poison and disease, and not needing to eat or drink...or breathe...I...OW...uh...look this way...And I live a long time." Mr. Swanson seemed already to be somewhat put off by him, so he was not about to start getting into the whole 'undead', 'body-jumping', 'immortality-through-corpse-donning' thing.

He tried to adapt a lighter demeanor, "So what abou-...OW..." He shot a second glare at the man behind him, who just grinned. He turned back to the young man in front of him. "What about you, Mr. Swanson?" He paused in anticipation. He didn't have to wait long. "OW...Where are...what 'nest' are you from?" He assumed the use of the term 'nest' was what the youngster would want to hear.

[Licearsvansan]

"But if this Adon-...OW...Adonnie is a friend...WAS a friend of yours, I'm terribly sorry. I did not k-k...OW...kill him."

As soon as the words left Kuvarakh's mouth Svan was already putting the pieces together. I think this man thinks that I think he is a friend of mine. Which makes me think that something is up. Why would a man think that I think he is a person he thinks I know? Svan was "thinking" fairly hard about this now, and was thankful for the brief distraction that the crewman had supplied. Now however, Kuv's attetion had returned to the Dhani, which meant Svan was out of time to think any further. There were numerous explinations that existied, and the snake was without time to consider them any further. Still, Svan did know two things that he could make use of.

One, this man didn't seem to know what a dhani was.

And two, this man believed Svan thought he was a person known as Adonnie.

This was all Svan needed to know. Svan was unlike most Dhani in that he took no great deal of pleasure from blind cruelty. That being said, he still was a Dhani and so lying came fairly easily to him. No longer severely confused by the man's words, Svan was once again able to mask his emotions. Of course he still seemed befuddled on the outside, but within his mind Svan was grinning ear to ear.

Svan listeed attentively to the man speaking, listening carefully for ay clues or hints that might shine some more light on what exactly it was that this man was hiding. "Condition", "Labs", "Sahova", Svan picked out several words he would want to remember for later. At first it almost seemed to Svan that Kuv might have some sort of curse that would cause him to take another's form via morphing, a magic Svan had just recently discovered. However, when the man noted that he didn't need to eat, drink, or breath Svan decided to shoot that idea down.

Still with little clue as to what the man actually was, Svan decided to keep his lies low and vague. His mother had warned him before that lies that were too detailed were not only easy to prove false, but they were also inherently suspicious. People, in general, are lazy and prefer to be just specific enough to get their point across and little more.

When Kuv allowed the Dhani to speak Svan made a face that seemed confused and troubled. He wanted this man to believe that Svan's sorce of confusion was about being told that Kuv was not the Adonnie the snake believed him to be. THe snake racked a weak smile at the word nest as if remembering an old joke, "My "nest" is back in Syliras, My mother always used to refer to us as her little chicklets, and always told us how sad she would be when we "left the nest". I've heard her say that so often growig up that I sometimes forget that others do't understand entirely what I mean." Svan seemed to have a look on his face that was split between joyful reminiscence, and shame for having made such a foolish faux pas. "I apologize for the confusion. You see I had an uncle that used to look alot like you. he wasn't really related, but... Svan feigned a bit of disapointment. "I'm sorry, its just that this is my first time away from home and I was exited because I thought someone I knew was here. Though I guess now that I look at you closer you couldn't possibly be Adonnie. He was much fatter than you." Svan hadn't seen much of Kuv on this ship considering the fact that the Dhani had done his best to avoid other people, but the snake did remember seeing brief glimpses of the man walking around earlier with much more girth. As he ended, Svan gave a meek smile to the man, the kind usually only given by men who don't want to admit some terrible thing they kow is real. Svan was working to give the impression that he had heard some kind of bad news regarding Adonnie through his disapointed expression and use of the past tense, but made sure not to specificly mention death.

While Svan knew something was off, this man could be a ghost for all the snake knew.

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh half-winced in anticipation, but no stitch came to cause him pain. He waited another interval, tensing slightly as he judged the time for the needle to come, but nothing happened. He turned to look at the crewman. "Are you done?" His voice was hopeful and he sighed gratefully when the crewman confirmed that he was.

He began to truly relax as 'Mr. Swanson' recounted some of his childhood details, stifling a sudden grimace of inevitable exposure when the young man mentioned how this 'Adonnie', apparently an uncle, was 'much fatter then you'. While it was true that the two of them had rarely even been on deck at the same time, let alone met, this reference chilled him with its accuracy regarding the initial condition of the body he now wore.

There was no doubt in his mind now, his uncle, Adonnie, had died in Syliras, and he was now wearing the body. 'Why, the youngster even said he lived in Syliras! How am I supposed to explain when it comes time to find a new body? When he comes to understand Nuit nature, he may well realize that this WAS his uncle's body. I'll have to be sure that the next one isn't so chubby, then maybe he won't make the connection.'

His thoughts then strayed to the use of hypnosis. It was against his ethics, but it wasn't as though he was using it to get away with murder. Only a probable violation of cultural protocol. He looked at the fellow now, his face wearing a sad sort of smile. Like he was trying to recall good memories to overlay a sad event.

Kuvarakh closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering, for the hundredth time, why he had ever consented to the transformation. Yes he had his drive, his mission, his need to give meaning and purpose to his daughter's death. But he was unsure of it lately. Much had convinced him that there was as much bad as good to be achieved by his quest. 'Wouldn't it have been as meaningful to have followed his wife and daughter into the afterlife?' his thoughts tormented him.

Following the usual cycle of his emotions on this track, he reminded himself that it was 'too late now. They've probably been before Lhex and had their rebirth. I may as well continue until the gods show me what in Dira's Dungeons they want from me now.'

He snorted once in resolve, shook off his depression and gave the young man a frank look. "Well, Mr. Swanson, or may I call you, what was it? Lyseer?" he gave an appreciative cock of the head as he pondered the name. "That's a very interesting name, A smooth combination of the old-world and the exotic. I can see 'Swanson' as having basic Syliran origins, but 'Lyseer', that is most uncommon. Is it a possible reference to an...oracle in your family tree? Something like...a...Lie-seer? Someone that can see and tell the truth from lies? I recall hearing somewhere that one of the gods gave such a gift to his or her priests."

Mr. Swanson looked at a loss for a response. Kuvarakh groaned and rolled his eyes, "Listen to me ramble. I'm sorry, it's a failing." He looked around, "Well it looks like we may be here on the shore of this sea for some time. This village certainly has a rustic charm. Care to take a look with me?"

[Licearsvansan]

[It took everything Svan had not to grin when he noticed the way the man reacted. There is definitely SOMETHING that this man is trying to hide. But "what" was he hiding was the question that remained. Possesion, body snatching, and shapeshifting were all things that came to mind, and not one of them sounded pleasent to Svan. Even the shapeshifting possibility seemed unpleasent-scratch that, ESPECIALLY the shapeshifting possibility. If other shape shifting beings were anything like the Dhani, Svan would be content to never meet such a creature.

Not long after Svan had finished talking Kuv began to pick apart Svan's full name. "Swanson will do" replied the snake calmly. What he was called by this man was largely unimportant to Svan. Humans always butchered Dhani names, and obsessing over proper pronunciation had quickly become a tedious task that Svan no longer engaged in. "It is certainly possible that there was a seer in my family, but I'm afraid I've never been big on the family history." Svan resisted cringing at hearing his mother's name repeated to him. Svan would call her a cruel, vindictive and heartless beast, but that would be a rude insult to heartless beasts everywhere. Just the same, the word "beast" failed to capture the pure malicious wit his mother had obtained from her 200 years of living. "Only the good die young after all"

The snake continued to give empty stares to the man until finally Kuv suggested exploring the town. Svan, always eager for adventure, was more than happy to oblige. The messy brown haired man's face lit up and spoke with rising exitement. "Yeah, I think there was more water in the boat than cargo by the time we docked. At least we landed somewhere interesting though." The "young" man seemed happy simply to have a distraction, but what really excited Svan was that he would get a chance to learn more about this man.

Not waiting for the flabby behemoth to move, Svan took the initiative and began heading off. A few paces away Svan turned back to Kuv and the sailor. With a light wave of his hand he issued his new companion to follow, "So, where shall we explore first my friend? A market? A bar? Perhaps a place that sells antidotes?" teased the snake with a grin. A grin that quickly faded once he caught sight of the sailor behind Kuv in his peripheral. The man had a dark scowl on his face, but it didn't seemed directed at Svan. Instead it seemed that the man was glaring at Kuv. Almost the moment Svan tried to focus on the man's face the look vanished as if it was never there. Still, Svan knew what he had seen. This man had heard the conversation from both Svan and Kuv, was it possible that this man knew something about the Kuv that the Dhani didn't? And if so, what was it that made him scowl so deeply. The snake turned back away and considered the look the sailor had given, but once again his mind drew a blank.

Perhaps the sailor hates fat people. Svan discarded his thought, and instead humored himself by imagining a group of sailor's trying to squeeze a bunch a lard bellied men onto a small boat.

[Kuvarakh]

"Well, I suppose I should see if this token will really allay the superstitions against Nuits in this town." Kuvarakh said, wielding the beaded braid the captain had cut from her hair as he started heading in the direction the crewman had indicated. "I have no real preference, I will find out soon enough if I can expect any sort of welcome. If so, I hope to find some way to make myself useful around here."

He absorbed the scenic beauty of the shore. It was not like a Zeltivan shore. This was primarily due to the detritus awash in heaps at various points, giving clear evidence of inland flora forced to endure the sudden transformation to a coastal ecosystem. Trees and bushes unable to accept a saltwater aquifer had long since been purged, but their remains could be found trailing into the shallows. Withered tree trunks and windfall gave a stark contrast to the green sward extending from sea level up into the forested hills roundabout.

The trail Kuvarakh walked continued to rise from the shoreline, adding to the splendor of the vista. It occurred to him that there was no indication of a second part of the town he'd left several chimes before. Perhaps the alchemist the crewman had grudgingly mentioned liked his solitude. Kuvarakh could understand that to a degree. The lingering djed residue from activations may have caused some trouble at some time. The man may have been "encouraged" by others to take his endeavors to more private location, or he may have come to the decision with no coaxing whatsoever.

At any rate, Kuvarakh began to wonder if the crewman had steered him wrong. Or if he'd misunderstood some aspect of the directions. But they were simple enough: "Go down to the water, head east, take the first uphill trail to its end. That is where you will be able to make yourself useful."

He came suddenly to the end of the trail, a rocky promontory that overlooked a rough-tossed inlet abounding with unforgiving rocks. The scene was harshly beautiful, and a bit intimidating. The cliff beneath it curved in to an extent that he would have fallen had he leaned out far enough to see where the rock wall met the water. He took a step back, perplexed as he scanned the edge of the trail for an indication of a side trail.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned around, ready to give Mr. Swanson an apology for leading him off on this pointless hike, regardless of its splendid view...

It was not Mr. Swanson. It was the crewman that had given him these directions. There were two others with him. "I don't know if ALL Nuits are bad luck, but you certainly are. The only way you will make yourself useful is by disappearing. My friends and I are willing to help." A smile, as cruel as it was gap-toothed, twisted his face. It was mirrored maliciously by his cohorts as they advanced on Kuvarakh.